


Seems Like Years Since It's Been Clear

by miriad



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-24
Updated: 2011-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-28 02:10:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/302592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miriad/pseuds/miriad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben wants to know just what is so special about Sam that would make Dean so weird about it. What is it about having a brother that changes you? Ben's friend Jason has a brother. In fact, Jason has three brothers and Ben is pretty sure that Jason wouldn't spit on any of them, even if they were on fire. Ben has other friends that have brothers and sisters but he's never met anyone like Dean and Sam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seems Like Years Since It's Been Clear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ravelqueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravelqueen/gifts).



> Story based on the following prompt: - Ben Braeden hates Uncle Sam, because he takes Dean away or Sam and Ben have a heart to heart (I will request this till I'm blue in the face^^)
> 
> Written for ravelqueen for the spn_j2_xmas fic exchange. I hope you like it!
> 
> This is set post season 5, but it's an AU, veering off about 3 minutes before the end of the season 5 finale. I've taken some liberties with when Sam comes back from Hell, etc. to tell the Ben story I wanted.

Ben doesn’t get it. His mom says that it’s because he doesn’t have a brother or sister but Ben knows a bunch of kids who do and they don’t act the way that Dean and Sam do. He’s said as much and he’s knows he’s right because his mom makes that face she makes when she’s trying not to tell him stuff that’s for only grown-ups.

“Sam and Dean, they didn’t grow up like you did. Or like I did. They didn’t have anyone else.”

“I don’t have anyone else! I just have you!”

“You have Christian and Jenny and Frank at school, and your cousins, and the kids down the street. Dean and Sam didn’t have that. They just had each other.”

“And that makes them weird.” It’s not a question. Ben knows that’s the reason.

“I think that’s part of it. Do you want a sandwich?” Ben’s mom smiles the totally fake smile that he’s seen her give her clients, or the neighbors down the block when they complain about the yard needing mowing.

Ben lets her change the subject because he knows that she thinks it’s weird too, and he knows that she’s trying to explain something to him that she doesn’t really get. He doesn’t want her to lie or to make something up, just to make him feel better. He’d prefer that she tell him the truth, even if it’s that she doesn’t know. But she doesn’t like to tell him that, so he doesn’t push it.

*

Dean is sad all the time. All. The. Time.

Ben’s mom tells him to just leave Dean alone when he’s sad. Ben wants to tell her that if he did that, he’d never get to talk to Dean at all, but he doesn’t say anything at all. He can see how Dean being sad makes him mom sad too, and he doesn’t want to make it worse. His mom deserves to be happy and Ben isn’t going to be the guy that keeps her from that. He kind of hates Dean for just that reason.

And then things start to get better. Dean stops smelling so strongly of the alcohol that Ben knows he’s drinking but he just never sees.

Dean starts offering to drive Ben to school in the mornings, which Ben thinks is awesome, especially because the Impala is the coolest car in the world, ever. Even though he isn’t supposed to, he likes to sit in the driver’s seat and pretended that he’s running over zombies or chasing down werewolves, just like Dean. He’s super careful and wipes everything down with a clean rag after he’s done- he watches CSI with his mom and knows all about fingerprints. He’s pretty sure that Dean wouldn’t like it, but so far, Ben hasn’t gotten caught.

The ride to school is usually pretty quiet. Dean plays one of his tapes real low and drinks comes coffee from Ben’s mom’s least favorite travel mug. It’s green with frogs on it and they’re smiling with these stupid, big googly eyes. Ben doesn’t know how Dean can be okay carrying that thing around but he guesses that when you are wearing a leather coat like Dean is, and driving that cool of a car, the coffee mug you pick won’t have too much of an impact on your social standing.

That, and Ben is pretty sure that Dean doesn’t care what anyone thinks about him. Except maybe Ben’s mom, but even that he isn’t too sure about.

Ben doesn’t say much in the mornings. He likes sitting in the passenger seat and pretending that he’s Dean’s hunting partner. Like instead of heading to the middle school, they’re actually heading out to Montana to fight vampire grizzly bears or something equally as cool.

It’s always a letdown when they roll up in front of the school, no matter what kind of envious look is on JD Ferrell’s face when he sees the Impala and Ben getting out of it. Dean always says something just before Ben shuts the car door, though, no matter how quiet the rest of the ride was.

“Study hard, dude. Smart is cool, okay?” Den smiles at him then, his eyes bright and kind of shiny, like he’s about to cry. It makes Ben feel kind of weird, to be honest. He’s not sure if it’s making Dean more sad than normal to drop him off or if it’s one of those weird adult things, when they cry about stupid stuff, like when his mom had cried when Ben’s head had reached higher than the door knob of the pantry, where they measured his height.

*

Dean buys Ben a new baseball glove, even though he already had one. Ben’s mom tells him to just say thank you and to not mention the other glove, mostly, Ben thinks, because Dean had bought himself a glove and a few balls to toss around the yard. It was clearly a Thing and Ben knows better than to bust on Dean when he gets into one of these moods.

They look up how to season a glove on-line and Dean has to go out and get these ginormous rubber bands to wrap around the gloves, a baseball tucked carefully into the pocket. There’s some weird kind of oil that smells kind of cool that they have to rub into the leather every few days. Dean lays down old newspaper on the table and sets up the stuff around him, like when he cleans his guns out in the garage. Dean doesn’t know that Ben knows that he does that, so Ben doesn’t say anything about the similarities, but it makes him happy that Dean has made up his own system for something that has to do with Ben.

They throw the ball around in the yard all summer and Ben finds out that he doesn’t just like playing ball, he’s also kind of good at it. He was too late to sign up for a little league team but Dean promises that next year, they’re so on it. Ben finds himself asking if Dean would help coach, you know, if they need someone for the team. Dean’s face gets all weird, like it does every so often, and he tells Ben sure. If they need someone, he’ll do it. Ben gets all warm and fuzzy inside at that, thinking about how that has to mean that Dean’s going to be around next year.

And then the worst thing ever happens.

Well, maybe not the worst thing EVER, but Ben thinks it sucks a whole lot.

Dean gets a call from his friend Bobby on a Thursday evening, right as they’re sitting down to dinner. Ben’s mom made curry, something that both Ben and Dean actually like, so it’s shaping up to be a great night, plus there’s pie. Blackberry, fresh baked, and ice cream in the freezer. Dean’s been pumped about it all day, so Ben’s been pumped about it too. Ben’s mom has put up with them both all afternoon, until she finally kicked them outside to throw the ball around.

So, they’re sitting down to dinner and the phone rings. Ben’s mom has a rule about answering the phone during dinner and Dean’s been pretty good about following it. But it’s the cell phone that Dean always carries but very rarely has to answer, because it doesn’t ring. He looks startled at the first ring, then scrambles to get the stupid thing out of his pocket.

Ben’s mom frowns and Ben gets that kind of sick feeling in his stomach, like he’s not going to like something. Like when Ben’s mom and Dean fight. Suddenly, the curry and the thought of pie doesn’t make Ben’s mouth water. Instead, it just makes him feel like he’s going to puke.

“Bobby? What’s-“ Bobby apparently cuts Dean off, so Ben spends the next few minutes watching Dean listen to the other guy on the line. Ben watches as Dean drops down into his chair like his legs just stopped holding him up. Dean’s face is super pale all of a sudden, his eyes open wider than normal. “You’re sure? It’s him? Bobby, I can’t- yeah, yeah, I’m on my way.”

Dean closes the phone and sets it on the table like it’s made of glass. Ben watches each movement like it’s in slow motion. Something big just happened and everything is going to change in about five seconds. Ben doesn’t like change, especially when it comes to Dean. He swallows slowly and curls his hands into fists under the table, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands. Ben can feel the tears coming, pooling behind his eyes, just waiting to be let loose but he doesn’t want to cry so he presses his nails in even harder, fighting it.

“Dean? What is it?” Ben’s mom asks the question that Ben can’t, her voice strong but concerned. She doesn’t reach out to Dean, but that’s not unusual. She tends to keep her hands to herself when Dean gets upset. Sometimes he doesn’t think about stuff and gets mad. He’s never hit her, Ben’s sure of that, and he doesn’t think Dean ever would. It’s just, Dean doesn’t like to be touched when he’s upset and that means keeping your hands to yourself when he gets that way.

“That was Bobby.” Dean’s hands are resting in his lap, almost like he forgot that he had them. He looks down for a long time and when he looks up again, there are tears in his eyes, one rolling down his cheek. He doesn’t reach up to brush it away, like Ben knows he would have done. “They, um, found Sam. This morning. He’s, uh, he’s alive. And, um, well-“ Dean stops talking, looking at Ben’s mom with this face that’s full of something that Ben isn’t sure he can define. He looks sad and happy all at the same time, tears and smiles, and Ben isn’t sure how anyone is supposed to feel about this news.

“What are you waiting for, Dean? Go.” Ben’s mom is smiling, tears of her own running down her face. She looks happy for Dean, which Ben doesn’t get. Because it sounds like Dean is going to leave and that sucks so why would she be happy?

“I don’t- I can’t-“ He’s fumbling over words and his shoulders are shaking and Ben realizes it’s because Dean is crying now. Really, really crying, like when Ben had fallen out of the tree when he was eight and broke his leg. Ben’s mom is out of her chair in an instant, her arm around Dean’s shoulders, her face close to his. She’s talking to him but Ben can’t understand what she’s saying.

“Dean?” Ben doesn’t like this, doesn’t like this at all. He doesn’t get it, really. Sam was dead, right? How can he be not dead now? And how can Dean be sad about it?

“Ben, go to your room, okay?” Ben’s mom doesn’t even look his way, just tells him to leave.

“What?”

“Ben, please. Just go, okay?” Ben gets up and his legs feel wobbly, like he can’t quite hold himself up. He leans against the table and the wood cuts into his hands as he presses down with most of his weight. Dean’s a mess, his face red, his breathing not right. Ben’s never seen him like this and the thought occurs to him that maybe Dean doesn’t want Ben to see him like this at all, ever. He’s a dude and dudes don’t cry, right?

He still can’t hear what his mom is saying to Dean but clearly, Dean can hear it. He’s nodding as she talks, his hands still resting in his lap. Ben shuffles to the door, his chest tight, his hands burning from where he’s cut into them with his nails. Ben’s mom kneels on the floor next to Dean, her face so close to his. They look like a team, Ben thinks, and he isn’t part of it. He thinks he’s going to throw up.

He makes it halfway up the stairs before he can’t go up anymore and he plops down on the edge of the squeaky step. He presses his face against the railing, listening for anything to change in the kitchen. He can’t hear anything, which could be bad or good. He can’t see anything, either. So he just sits, and waits.

It seems like forever but it couldn’t have been that long, when Dean stomps out of the kitchen and heads to the front door. He doesn’t look at the stairwell, doesn’t stop to say good-bye, he just walks to the door and opens it, stepping out into the fall night air. He shuts the door behind him, not quite slamming it, and suddenly, Ben can’t keep the tears back. The start running down his face, his throat tight and hot. He grips the rails in front of him, his face pressed against the wood, and he cries.

Ben’s mom steps out of the kitchen, her face red, eyes sad. He sees her look up at the staircase and he can tell when she notices him sitting there. She presses one hand to her mouth and then she’s moving, slipping up the stairs to sit next to him. She wraps one arm around his shoulders and pulls him to her.

Ben’s mom always smells good, like vanilla and shampoo and laundry detergent. He presses his face into her shoulder, his nose dripping on her shirt. She rubs his back with one hand and kisses the top of his head.

“He’ll be back, baby. He promised. Dean doesn’t like to break his promises, does he?”

“I don’t know,” Ben says, the words muffled against her. “I don’t know.”

“Well, I know. When he’s made promises to us, he’s done his best to keep them. He’ll be back. And who knows, maybe he’ll bring Sam with him.”

For the first time, what’s actually happened becomes clear in Ben’s head. Sam. Is not dead. Sam. Dean’s Sam. The reason for the sadness and the drinking and the anger all the time. Sam, that Dean was just starting to get over, as far as Ben could tell.

This, Ben knows, is going to suck.

*

Dean’s gone for three weeks. He calls a bunch of times but doesn’t talk to Ben the first few. Ben doesn’t know if he asked to and Ben’s mom just said no or if he had even asked about Ben at all. He doesn’t want to know, truth be told, because not being wanted isn’t something that he wants to experience, ever.

During the second week, Dean calls and asks for him right away. Ben doesn’t know what to do when his mom hands him the phone, so he starts off with the basics.

“Hello?”

“Hey, dude.” Dean sound tired, like he’s been awake for days. But he doesn’t sound sad, like he has so often, so Ben counts that as a win. “How’ve you been?”

“Fine. I was-“ Ben stops for a minute, not sure if he should go on. He’s not sure what the rules are anymore and he doesn’t know if there are things they aren’t supposed to talk about now or if there are things he’s expected to say. Ben’s mom didn’t tell him anything, so he’s playing with fire a bit, but he decides to just wing it. “I was worried about you.”

Dean doesn’t say anything for a minute and Ben wonders if maybe he said the wrong thing. He swallows, his hand sweaty where he’s holding the phone.

“I’m sorry, Ben. I didn’t want to make you worry. But I guess I did leave kind of sudden, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you did.”

“Well, I’m in South Dakota, at Bobby’s house. We’ll have to come up and visit sometime so you can see the place. It’s pretty cool.”

“Really?” For the first time since Dean left, Ben actually believes that Dean might be coming back.

“Yeah, dude. He’s got all sorts of cool stuff that we could work on. But, uh, right now, I’m kind of dealing with something and I don’t know how long it’s going to take.”

“Sam?” Ben can hear Dean sharp intake of breath, like he didn’t think Ben knew what was going on.

“Yeah. Sam. He’s… getting better. He’s not great, but, well… he’s getting there. I’m thinking about bringing him to stay with us for a little while. What do you think about that?”

Ben doesn’t know what to think. It was hard when he has to start sharing his mom with Dean. He got used to it, sort of. Maybe it would be better to say that he got used to Dean. Sam wasn’t someone he knew, even from before. He’d met him, sure, but he didn’t know him. And Sam was the one that had made Dean so, so sad. Ben had decided, back when Dean had first showed up on their doorstep, that he didn’t like Sam. That hasn’t changed.

But Ben knows that if Dean can’t bring Sam, he might not come back at all. So Ben swallows around the lump in his throat, knowing that he’s already waited far too long to answer the question.

“Sam can come here, sure. We have the extra room, with the sewing machine. He could stay there.”

“Yeah, buddy, that was what I was thinking too.” Dean sounds so relieved that Ben feels guilty for thinking those things about Sam. “I’m hoping we can bring him home in a week or so. Can I count on you to get stuff ready for us?”

Ben knows that Dean knows that Ben likes to be helpful. That he wants to be a part of stuff, that he wants to work with Dean, and be his partner. And there is something very awesome about Dean calling Ben (and Ben’s mom) home. Despite Ben kind of hating Sam (kind of a lot), Ben decides that he can do this one thing, because really, it’s for Dean and he really likes Dean.

“Yeah, I can do that.” Ben imagines he can feel Dean’s grin across the connection, he can tell that Dean’s smiling.

“Thanks, dude. We’ll see you in about a week. Can I talk to your mom?” Ben passes the phone off to his mom and goes upstairs to see just how much work he’s gotten himself into with his promise.

*

Ben has never cleaned so much in his life. The spare room wasn’t dirty, per se, but it wasn’t sparkling clean either. And once Ben got going, it turned out that he was a bit pickier than he had ever been about his own room. Buckets of soapy water and piles of cleaning rags later, Ben decides that the room is ready for inspection.

He’s unearthed the bed out from under his mom’s craft supplies. He’s stacked them in the closet, on the right side, leaving the left for Sam’s stuff, if he has any. Ben isn’t sure what happens to your stuff when people think you’re dead. He knows that Dean has a box or two in the attic that say ‘SAM’ on them, but Ben isn’t sure just what would be in there.

He figures they’ll need room for some boots, because if Dean wears boots then Sam wears boots, right? And some shirts, maybe a suit. He cleaned out the dresser, wiping out each drawer with a rag and letting them air dry. Plenty of room for socks and boxers, Ben thinks, and maybe some pajamas, if Sam wears them.

The windows are sparkling- Ben had been super careful with the Windex, making the glass sparkle without getting fingerprints on anything. He airs out the rugs, hitting them against the railing on the back porch, like he saw in a movie that one time. The dust billows up but after about twenty minutes, he feels pretty confident that they’re clean.

Clean sheets on the bed, made as carefully as he can, trying to copy what he’d seen Dean do when he took his turn at changing the sheets. It isn’t quite as smooth as Dean’s work but it looks okay. Ben spreads Grandma Lucy’s quilt over the top of everything and rests his hands on his hips to look the room over.

“Looking good, Ben!” Ben’s mom startles him, her happy voice filling the room. He jumps a bit but smiles when he realizes that she likes what he’s done. “Where’d you put everything that was in here?”

He takes a few minutes to show her and she nods, appreciating his organizing skills and stacking method. She kisses the top of his head and he can feel his cheeks heat up at her praise.

“Do you think he’ll like it?”

“I think Sam’s going to love it. Come on down, Mr. Hard Worker, and have some lemonade.”

She leaves the room before Ben can work up the courage to say that he wasn’t asking about Sam at all. He can’t seem to get the words out, though, and finally decides that maybe it doesn’t matter. He flicks off the light and shuts the door, heading down for a glass of lemonade and maybe, if he’s lucky, a cookie. Or two.

*

He can hear the Impala before he sees it and rushes out to meet the car when it hits the driveway. It’s after nine and close to his bedtime but Ben was sure that they were going to arrive that evening and Ben’s mom had promised that he could stay up until ten just in case. They just made it.

The big black car pulls into the driveway, the lights shining bright and clear, almost blinding when they hit Ben’s face. Ben’s mom waits at the door, letting Ben run out in front of her as the welcoming committee.

“Dean! Dean!” Bean feels like a little kid, excited and breathless that Dean’s back. He can see someone else in the passenger’s seat and Ben feels the tightness curl in his belly again, dark and cold. He tries to push it to the side because, Dean is back, but it doesn’t fully leave him, at least not right them.

Dean open the driver’s side door cautiously, like he’s worried that he’s going to break it if he does it any faster. He looks even worse than when he left, dark circles under his eyes and his hair lying flat against his head. But he’s here. Ben makes himself stay where he is, standing on the walk in his slippers, until Dean opens his arms and Ben rushes to him.

They aren’t usually hugging people, he and Dean, but it’s been rough. It’s late enough that Ben can stop pretending to be cool and get the hug that he wishes he’d had when Dean left. Dean smells like french fries and coffee, but it’s perfect.

“Hey, dude. Good to see you.” Ben can’t say anything back, his throat’s closed up a bit and it’s all he can do breathe without crying. “Let’s get Gigantor here inside, huh?”

Ben takes a step back, refusing to rub his eyes and look like a baby. Dean’s already on the other side of the car, opening the door and pulling Sam out. Sam looks terrible. Ben remembered him having kind of long hair, floppy kind of like the dog that lived down the street at their old house. Now his hair is buzzed short, like the military guys Ben sees on TV. It’s weird and patchy, his scalp shiny in the moonlight.

And his face is thin, a scar running down the side, just to the right of his eye. Sam’s hunched over and Dean clearly is taking a lot of his weight. Ben doesn’t really think about it, just goes over and tries to take some of the weight on Sam’s other side.

Dean stops moving when he notices Ben, his eyes going wide. He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something but then he closes it and starts walking again. Sam is heavy, Ben realizes, but it’s too late to back out now. They make it to the door where Ben’s mom is waiting for them.

“Everything’s ready upstairs, if that’s where you want to go.”

“That sounds great. Come on, man, help a dude out.” Ben starts to protest that he IS helping, but he stops himself when he realizes that Dean isn’t talking to him. Ben feels the frown curling his face down into something that might be a pout. The stairs aren’t wide enough for Ben to help carry Sam up to his room, so he stops at the bottom and lets Dean try to carry his brother up by himself. Ben’s mom comes up behind him and gives him a hug, pressing her cheek to his.

“You did good, kid. I expected nothing less.” Her words are just for him, and Ben feels his face heat up, a little proud and a little embarrassed.

Dean’s still talking to Sam, although Ben can’t hear what he’s saying. He does see Sam’s foot miss a step and Dean lurches back, trying to hold on to his brother’s weight. Ben jumps forward, like he could catch Sam if he fell. Ben’s mom grabs a hold of his pajama top and pulls him back.

“No, Ben. You’ll get hurt.”

“Mom-“

Dean rights himself, pulling both he and Sam forward, leaning on the steps in front of them to keep from falling back. Ben lets his breath out, not even realizing that he had been holding it in. He feels all shaky, and lightheaded. Dean stands, gets his arms around Sam’s waist and pulls up. They’ve only got a few more steps left to go and then they’ll be fine. Ben watches, chewing on his lip, as they finally hit the landing and turn into the hallway.

“Why don’t you go get ready for bed, huh?” Ben’s mom kisses the top of his head and turns towards the kitchen.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to make some coffee, maybe some dinner. Dean looked hungry, don’t you think?”

“What about Sam?” Ben follows her to the kitchen, pulling out a chair at the table and settling in. He’s kind of hungry, he could eat. Especially if Dean was eating with him.

“I don’t think Sam’s up for eating, Ben. He looks pretty tired.” Ben's mom pulls out the coffee and starts filling the pot with water. It's pretty late for coffee but Ben knows that Dean likes it after he's been on the road for a while. He guesses his mom knows what she's doing.

“Yeah, he does. Is he sick?” Ben wonders if Dean told Ben's mom anything more than he told Ben. There seems to be a lot of secrets going on in this house and Ben feels a bit left out. Not like he cares about Sam, really, but he'd like to know.

“I don’t know if he’s sick, or hurt. But he’s not feeling very well, either way.” Ben's mom doesn't look him in the eye so he's pretty sure that she's knows more than what she's telling him.

“You’ll fix him.” The words just clip out as Ben plays with the salt and pepper shaker. He pushes them around with his pointer fingers, trying not to knock them over. Salt races pepper, although the pepper seems to keep winning.

“Oh, I will, will I?” Ben's mom stops to smile at him and he smiles back.

“Sure. You fix me and Dean all the time.”

“I’m not sure this is the same thing, Ben. I don’t know if anything I can do will help.”

“Can’t hurt to try, right? That’s what you always say.”

“Right. Can’t hurt to try.” She says it but Ben can tell that she doesn’t really mean it this time. “What do you think Dean will want to eat?”

Ben doesn’t think he’s going to want anything but he doesn’t say that. Ben’s mom isn’t really listening to him anyway, so it’s okay. She starts puttering, making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with strawberry, just like Dean likes it. Bean watches her make a second sandwich, with blackberry jam that he knows is just for him.

*

Ben doesn't see Sam outside of his room for over a week. And the one time he does catch a glimpse, it's when Dean is helping Sam back to his room after a shower or something. Sam moves like Ben's grandfather used to, before he died, and Ben wonders if that means that Sam is sick like Grandpa Paul was.

Dean doesn't seem like he wants to talk about it. He throws the ball around with Ben in the back yard and he eats dinner at the table with Ben and Ben's mom but Ben can tell that his heart just isn't in it. His heart is upstairs.

Ben wants to know just what is so special about Sam that would make Dean so weird about it. What is it about having a brother that changes you? Ben's friend Jason has a brother. In fact, Jason has three brothers and Ben is pretty sure that Jason wouldn't spit on any of them, even if they were on fire. Ben has other friends that have brothers and sisters but he's never met anyone like Dean and Sam.

*

Dean takes Ben's mom out for the afternoon. She needs some work done on her car and it's one of those foreign jobs, as Ben heard Dean call it, so Dean isn't too sure about the parts. He doesn't trust the shop not to screw her over, so he tells Ben that he's going with her. Ben doesn't mind. He likes it when Dean watches out for her. Ben can't always do it and Ben's seen Dean with a gun. He can take care of her better than just about anyone, so Ben allows it.

Dean stops right before he goes out the kitchen door, into the garage. Ben's sitting at the table, finishing his cereal, reading a comic book. Really, he's watching Dean out of the corner of his eye, but the comic is pretty interesting, too. Dean takes a step back into the room and he stands in front of Ben's spot at the table. The light flares up behind him, and Ben thinks it makes him look like he's glowing.

"Dude, I need to ask you a favor. You can say no, but it would mean a lot to me."

"Okay. What is it?" Ben thinks he knows what Dean is going to ask but he wants Dean to actually say it before he just volunteers.

"I need you to look in on Sam while I'm gone. Nothing big, just make sure that he doesn't need anything, like a glass of water or something. Can you do that?" Ben has to think about it for a minute. He doesn't like Sam. He doesn't understand Sam. But Dean loves Sam. Like Ben loves his mom. And Ben loves Dean, even though he's never said it out loud and probably never will. Dean's looking at him like this is the biggest thing in the world and Ben doesn't want to disappoint him.

"I can do that."

"Thank you, Ben. It really means a lot to me."

"Dean, are you ready?" Ben's mom pops her head in from the garage, her sunglasses balanced on the top of her head. She looks really happy, kind of glowy, and Ben wonders just what about this whole situation is making her that way. Is it just Dean? Is it Sam, which would be yet another reason to hate the guy, or is it that they're all there together? Dean's been happier, now that he has his brother, so maybe that's it. Maybe, Ben thinks, crunching on his last bite of Cheerios.

"Yeah, I'm ready. Let's get out of here. Thanks Ben!" Dean calls out from the garage, his voice echoing, sounding much louder than it actually is.

"You got it," Ben mutters, under his breath. He finishes his cereal, then his comic book and looks at the clock. Dean and Ben's mom have been gone for about ten minutes. Sam can't possibly need anything yet, could he?

So Ben decides to watch some TV. He finds an episode of Adventure Time on the DVR and laughs his way through Finn and Jake's defeat of the Ice King. Again. It's been almost an hour and Ben decides that he probably needs to go upstairs and check on Sam.

His feet are heavy on the steps up to the second floor and he tries not to shuffle his feet or scuff his shoes against the carpet, like his mom is always telling him not to. He gets to the landing and stops, just listening. He can hear the hum of his mom's computer, the one in her room, and the fan that she keeps going even in the winter.

The fish tank gurgles from his room and he can hear the wind blowing through the tree just outside the window in the bathroom. He doesn't hear Sam. Suddenly worried, he jumps in front of the bedroom door and twists the knob, throwing it open.

Sam's sitting up in bed, his head turned toward the window. He's breathing, Ben can see his chest moving, but he doesn't turn when Ben bounds into the room, tennis shoes clomping on the floor.

"Sam?" Ben hesitates, his voice loud despite his efforts to be a bit softer. Sam turns his head slowly, his eyes sunken in his face, his cheeks hollow. He looks like something from a horror movie. Ben tries not to cringe back but isn't sure how good of a job he does at it.

"Hey, Ben." Sam's voice sounds dusty, like he hasn't used it in a while, and tired. Ben frowns.

"Dean asked me to... do you need anything?" Sam seems to think about it for a minute, closing his eyes and just breathing. His eyes open again, slowly, like it's taking him more effort than he really wants to spend.

"I could use a glass of water. There's a glass right here." Ben goes over to pick it up, noticing that there's a bendy straw in the glass and he's struck with a sense of jealousy, something that he's been feeling a lot since Sam came to stay with them.

"I'll be right back," Ben says, and rushes out. He doesn't like the taste of the tap water, so he goes downstairs to get the filtered water from the fridge. It takes him a minute to get back upstairs- he filled the cup too full and doesn't want to spill it all over the floor. Ben's mom says the carpet takes forever to dry and he doesn't want her to think that he's not careful.

By the time he gets back upstairs, Sam has propped himself up a bit higher on the bed and there's a book sitting on his lap that wasn't there before. It looks big, like an adult book, the kind that doesn't have pictures or adventures or zombies.

"Here." Ben holds out the glass and waits for Sam to take it. There's a weird look that crosses Sam's face and he sighs, his arms never moving from the bed.

"I can't hold it, Ben. Could you let me take a few sips before you go back downstairs?"

"Sure, I guess." Ben holds the glass out, propping the straw up a bit higher. Sam cranes his head forward and Ben can tell that it takes him a lot more effort than if Ben himself were to try it. Sam drinks a lot, more than Ben was expecting, until he finally lets go of the straw and leans back, his eyes closed.

"Thanks, man. I needed that."

"You're welcome." Ben turns to leave but notices Sam trying to pick up his book and it falling back to the bed. It happens again right as Ben reaches the doorway and something inside him tells him that if he leaves Sam like this, Dean would be disappointed. Ben doesn't want to care, mostly because he doesn't want to help Sam. But it's Dean. So he stops, and turns around. "Do you need some help?"

"Yeah, I think I do." Sam smiles at him, this weird, kind of embarrassed smile, and Ben steps over to the bed, waiting for instructions. "I was kind of sleeping on it, I think, and I wanted to read more but I barely got it up on my lap. Do you think you could open it for me?"

"Sure." Ben leans over, trying not to touch Sam at all, picking up the book. There's a post-it note stuck in it, marking the page so Ben flips it open there, and unsticks the post it. He's got it hanging off his finger, not sure where to put it when Sam starts talking.

"I wanted to talk to you about something." Ben doesn't know what to say. He doesn't really want to talk to Sam but he told Dean he'd help and this is helping, he guesses. And Ben's mom would tell him that it's rude to ignore his elders or whatever, and Sam is certainly eld.

"Yeah, I guess." Ben puts the post-it on the side table, trying not to look Sam in the face.

"Is Dean okay?"

"What do you mean?" Ben wasn't expecting that kind of question and he's thrown a bit. He wasn't expecting to actually talk about Dean while he was doing something to help Dean. It almost doesn't seem fair.

"Dean seems... not good." It takes Sam a minute to get that out in the open. But once it's out there, it seems like he can't stop talking. " And I know that you've been spending a lot of time with him, even before I came back. I thought you'd know. How Dean's doing. If he's okay."

"Don't you know?" Ben doesn't say it but he wants to add, he's YOUR brother. You know him better than anyone else, or so they say. You should be able to tell, for all the faith he puts in you. But he doesn't say it. He just thinks it and hopes that it doesn't show on his face. He doesn't want Dean to get mad at him when Sam rats him out.

"I thought so. But it's been a while. And I thought I could tell but he's not... really talking to me about this stuff. I thought he might talk to you." Ben gets this warm feeling in his chest at those words, wondering why Sam would think that. Ben isn't Dean's friend. Is he?

"He doesn't really. Talk to me." Sam laughs softly, a sad smile flashing across his face.

"Yeah, actually. That makes a lot of sense. Dean's not really a talker, is he? Has he done anything? What does he do?"

"Do? I don't- what do you mean?"

"Does he eat dinner with you guys or is he always in the garage? Does he listen to his tapes all the time, alone, or is he around? That kind of stuff." Ben stops to think, really wondering about the answers now that Sam brings it up. He sits down on the floor, legs crossed, and rests his chin in his hand, really thinking about it.

"In the beginning," he starts, slowly, a bit unsure if he should be telling Sam any of this, "he was super sad. He stayed upstairs in the bedroom all the time, except every now and then. He smelled like Jimmy's Uncle Rick all the time. He'd get mad. Not real mad, like yelling at us and stuff, just annoyed. And sad. He was sad, all the time. He cries super quiet."

"Yeah," Sam says, gentle and kind. "He does."

"He missed you, at least that's what my mom told me. She said that he lost you and he lost himself and that he was super sad about it."

"Is he still sad now, do you think?" Sam sounds sad, then, like Dean used to. Ben doesn't look up.

"Not the same way he was before," Ben says, picking at his shoelace. "Something happened this winter and he started coming down for breakfast. And then he started driving me to school. And then this spring, he-" Ben stops talking and looks up at Sam with his eyes wide. He's not sure he should tell Sam this part. He might get mad or more sad or something. Ben doesn't know him well enough to tell what he'll do.

"What did he do this spring, Ben? It's okay, you can tell me."

"He started playing baseball with us. Me and my friends. And he'd throw the ball around with me, in the backyard. We got new gloves and everything. It was fun."

"I'll bet." Sam struggles to sit up in bed and Ben stands up, his foot tingling like it's fallen asleep. He holds his hands out, wanting to help for some reason, but he doesn't get close enough to touch. Sam levers himself higher up in the bed, the pillows behind his back bunching and shifting as he moves, the book tumbling off to the side on the bed.

Sam's breathing hard, like when Ben runs all the way home, and his face is shiny with sweat. Ben picks up the Kleenex box from the table and offers one to Sam, in case he needs it. Sam ignores the box, so Ben sets it back on the side table.

"Sounds like," Sam wheezes out, "you kept Dean busy. Helped him get over a few things."

"I don't know-"

"You got him to play ball. He hasn't done that since he was, I don't know, just a little bit older than you. Dean loved baseball. He loved to play when we would be at a school in the spring." Sam beckons Ben over to the bed, closer than he currently is, and leans over conspiratorially. "I think Dean wanted to be a professional ball player, to be honest. I'm glad that you got him to play again."

"Me? What did I do?"

"You got him to put a glove back on. That's a pretty big deal, dude." Sam smiles at him now, eyes glowing from his pale, sunken face. Sam's smile is so bright that Ben wants to turn his face away, worried that he won't be able to look at anything else ever again. "Thank you, Ben, for taking care of my big brother. That means a lot to me."

"I-," Ben doesn't know what else to say. He doesn't know what to say, period. "You're welcome," he manages to croak out. Sam is still smiling at him. "Do you need some more water?"

"No, man, I'm good. I think I'm going to take a nap, if you don't mind."

"No. I don't mind." Ben turns around and walks out the door, ignoring the sounds of Sam shifting around again until he's laying down on the bed, under Ben's grandmother's quilt. Ben pulls the door halfway shut and makes sure the light is switched off. He thinks about going downstairs to play some games but he suddenly just wants to be by himself, in the quiet.

Ben's mother's camera sits on her dresser, where it always sits unless she's using it. They haven't emptied the memory card in a while, so Ben knows that the past few months of pictures should be on it. He flips through them slowly, looking at all the ones with Dean in them. Dean without Sam. He's happy in those pictures, Ben thinks, but sad at the same time. Which would be awful, when he thinks about it, because really? Who wants to have everything they do tinged with sadness all the time?

He wants to go back into that bedroom and scream at Sam for whatever he did to leave in the first place. And then he wants to hug him for coming back and taking that sadness away from Dean, at least a little bit. And then Ben wants to lay down on his bad and cover himself with his blankets and cry.

Because he knows that he wasn't the one that really made Dean happy. He was just a placeholder for a brother that was missing, in a hole that no one else could fill.

But he doesn't cry. He pops the memory card out of the camera and he sits down at his mom's computer and opens up PowerPoint. He's not that good at it yet, but he thinks he could make a nice presentation of what Sam missed while he was gone. Ben thinks Dean will like it. At least, he hopes he does.

*

"Thanks for sitting with Sammy. I really appreciate it." Dean takes a sip from his beer. Ben can hear him swallowing, can hear the gulping of the liquid as it goes down his throat. He's paying so much attention that he doesn't notice Dean's arm coming up, around his shoulders, until it settles on those shoulders and pulls Ben in close.

"What are you-"

"I'm hugging you, kid. I know I don't do it a lot, but I should." Dean sounds tired but happy, which makes Ben smile. They're sitting on the back steps, even though it's getting cold out, but it's fun to sit there. They did it all summer after playing ball and Ben is glad that they're continuing to do it.

"All this for hanging out with Sam?" Ben says it likes it wasn't a big deal but it kind of was. He's just not going to mention that.

"That, and because you're you." Dean knocks his knee against Ben's, real gentle.

"What does that mean?"

"Means that I like you, dude. Does it have to mean more than that?"

"No. It doesn't." Ben still doesn't like Sam. But he likes the fact that Sam has given him Dean back. Ben's pretty sure (actually, he heard his mom talking about it on the phone with one of her friends, so he can't quite take all the credit) that Dean was going to leave, eventually.

Dean lived out of a car until he came to live with Ben and his mom, so, you know, he's not used to sticking around. But with Sam laid up and super sick, Ben's pretty sure that Dean'll stick around for at least a little bit longer. And he can work with that. Ben's a pretty flexible guy.

"I made you something," Ben starts, not sure if he should keep talking or not. He likes Dean's arm around his shoulders and doesn't want to do anything to make him move. Dean takes another sip of his beer before he says anything.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Actually," Ben says, suddenly nervous, "I made it for Sam. But, really, it's for you." Ben feels Dean still, feels his arm tense up around Ben and then it relaxes a bit.

"Thanks, Ben. That's really cool of you. I'd like to see it, if it's ready."

"Yeah, it is. But I can show you later." He doesn't want Dean to feel like he has to look at some stupid thing Ben made, even if Ben doesn't think it's stupid. Dean pulls him in for one more hug, then stands up. He holds a hand out for Ben and helps pull him up off the steps.

"Come on, I want to see this thing."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. Come on."

*

He takes Dean up to the upstairs computer and makes Dean sit in the chair. He finds his file and pushes play, then steps back. Ben found some music that he thought fit, something by AC/DC that he knows Dean loves. The pictures slide by, fast enough to not be boring but slow enough to really look at them.

Dean's got his serious face on, which Ben isn't sure if it's a good thing or not. Dean laughs softly at a few of them, silly things that happened or times when they had just had a good time, but as the show keeps going, Dean's face gets more and more serious. And Ben realizes that this might not have been the best idea. That maybe he should have asked his mom before he ever said anything to Dean.

He waits it out, the whole song and all the pictures, wondering what Dean is going to say, how mad he's going to be. The slideshow ends, stopping on the last picture of Dean and Ben and Ben's mom at the fair. Dean hasn't said anything and Ben feels sick to his stomach. This is terrible. The worst. What has he done?

And suddenly, Dean's up and out of his seat, his arms around Ben in a crushing hug.

"Dean-"

"Thank you, Ben." The words are whispered into his hair, but Ben can still hear them. He doesn't say anything back, mostly because he isn't sure what to say. Dean's still hugging him and Ben is pretty sure that he's crying, at least a little bit. Which wasn't his goal at all, so he isn't sure if it's a good thing or a bad thing.

Dean stops hugging him quite so hard, and pulls back a bit, to look Ben in the face. His eyes are shiny and his cheeks are wet, so yeah, crying, but he's smiling. He's looking at Ben like he looks at Sam sometimes and suddenly Ben feels warm all over, his whole face heating up.

"Thank you for this. I love it. Sam's going to love it. Kid, you are the best." Dean stands up completely, and ruffles Ben's hair. Ben tries to brush him off but that's mostly for show. Dean takes a minute, then walks out the bedroom door, towards Sam's room. Ben lets him go, and looks back to the computer screen.

They look happy, he thinks. That's why he used that picture.


End file.
